The rich man has his motor car,
His country and his town estate
He smokes a fifty-cent cigar
And jeers at fate.
Yet though my lamp burn low and dim,
Though I must slave for livelihood,
Think you that I would change with him?
You bet I would! – Franklin Pierce Adams

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The stern hand of fate has scourged us to an elevation where we can see the great everlasting things which matter for a nation — the great peaks we had forgotten, of Honor, Duty, Patriotism, and clad in glittering white, the great pinnacle of Sacrifice pointing like a rugged finger to Heaven. – David Lloyd George
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